The Cock-House at Fellsgarth Part 19

"That kid," said Wally, one day, _sotto voce_, as cla.s.s was proceeding, "has no more idea of teaching than my hat. We don't get a chance to _do_ things ourselves, with him always messing about and looking over.

It's rude to look over. I mean to mark my exercise _private_ in future."

"The thing is," said D'Arcy, "if he'd anything original to say it wouldn't matter so. But he's always talking the same old rot about roots. What's the use of a root, I should like to know, if you can't bury it? Eh, kid?"

Fisher minor, to whom the question was addressed, did not know, and remarked that they didn't teach Latin here the same way as when he learned from a governess at home.

He regretted this admission almost as soon as he had made it. For Wally and D'Arcy immediately got paper and began to draw fancy portraits of Fisher minor learning Latin under the old _regime_. The point of these ill.u.s.trations was not so much in the figures as in the conversation.

The figures were more or less unlike the originals; at least, Fisher minor declared that the three isosceles triangles piled by Wally one on the top of the other were not a bit like his governess; while the plum- pudding on two sticks, with a little pudding above for a head which emitted four huge tears, the size of an orange, from either eye, he regarded as a simple libel on himself. In one sense the likenesses were speaking--that is, a gibbous balloon proceeded from the mouth of each figure, wherein the following dialogue was indicated.

"_Governess_.--`Naughty little Tommy-wommy, didn't know his Latin.

Tommy must have a smack when he goes bye-bye.' _Tommy_.--`Booh, hoo, how bow, yow, wow, oh my! I'll tell my ma!'"

"Bring up that paper, Wheatfield," said Mr Stratton.

Wally made a wild grab at Ashby's exercise, and was proceeding to take it up when the master stopped him.

"Not that; the other, Wheatfield. Bring it immediately."

Whereupon Wally with shame had to rejoice Ashby's heart by restoring his _exercise_, and take up in its place the fancy portrait.

Mr Stratton gazed attentively and critically at this work of art.

"Not at all well done, Wheatfield," said he. "Sit down at my table here and draw me thirty copies of it before you leave this room. Next boy, go on."

Wally confessed, in later life, that of all the impositions he had had in the course of his chequered career, none had been more abominable and wearisome than this. Oh, how he got to detest that governess and her ward, and how sickening their talk became before the task was half over!

He sat in that room nearly three hours by the clock, groaning over this task, and when at last he went in search of Mr Stratton with the original and thirty copies in his hand, he felt as limp and flabby, bodily and mentally, as he had ever done in his life.

Mr Stratton, who was having tea in his own room, examined each picture in turn, and rejected two as not fair copies of the original.

"Do these two again--here," said he.

Wally meekly obeyed. He had not a kick left in him.

"That's better," said the young master when they were done. "Now sit down and have some tea."

It was a solemn meal. Mr Stratton went quietly on with his meal, looking up now and then to see that his guest was supplied with bread and b.u.t.ter and cake and biscuits. Wally was equally silent. He felt sore against the master, but he liked his cake--and the tea was "tip- top."

The ceremony came to an end about the same time as the cake, and then Mr Stratton said, pointing to the papers--

"You can put them in the fire now, Wheatfield."

Wally obeyed with grim satisfaction.

"Thanks. You can go now. You must come another day and bring your friends. Good-bye," and he shook hands.

"I wonder if the chap's all there," said Wally to himself as he limped over to his quarters. "He forgot to jaw me. Wonder if I ought to have reminded him? Wonder who he gets his cake from? I wouldn't care for many more impots like that. It was pretty civil of him asking me to tea, when you come to think of it. Not sure I sha'n't back him up a bit this half, and make the chaps do so too. Wonder if he meant all four of us to come to tea? One cake wouldn't go round. Besides, there's no saying how that young cad Fisher minor would behave."

This little episode was not without its effect on all the occupants of Wally's study. For that young gentleman had not the slightest intention of turning over a new leaf by himself. No, bother it; if he was going to "back up" Stratton, the other fellows would have to back up too.

His one grief was that the stock of impositions stored up by the industry of the two new boys would not be likely to be wanted now, which would be wicked waste. D'Arcy had already occasionally drawn on them, and one day nearly spoiled the whole arrangement by taking up to Mr Wakefield fifty lines of Virgil precisely five minutes after they had been awarded. Fortunately, however, his hands were exceedingly grimy at the time, so that Mr Wakefield sent him back for ablutions before he would communicate with him. And in the interval he fortunately discovered his error, and instead of taking up the imposition with his clean hands, he delighted the master with a knotty inquiry as to one of the active tenses of the Latin verb "To be."

However, there was no saying when the impositions might not come in useful, and meanwhile Ashby and Fisher minor were taken off the job and ordered to sit up hard with their work for Stratton.

"You know," said Wally, propounding his scheme of moral reform in a little preliminary speech, "you kids are not sent up here to waste your time. No more's D'Arcy."

"How do you know what I was sent up here for?" said D'Arcy. "It wasn't to hear your jaw."

"Shut up. I've just been having tea with Stratton, and we were talking about you chaps, him and I--I mean he and _me_."

"You didn't get on to English grammar, did you, while you were about it?" asked Ashby.

"No. Look here, you chaps, no larks. It would be rather a spree if we put our back into it this term, wouldn't it?--beastly sell, you know, for the others; and rather civil to Stratton too, for asking us to tea."

This last argument was more impressive than the first; and the company said they supposed they might.

"All right--of course we may have to shut off a lark or two, but unless we stick-- Hullo, I say, look at those Modern chaps down there punting a football on our side of the path! Cheek! Why, it's Cash and my young brother. I say, let's go and drive them off, you fellows."

So the four descended, and a brisk scrimmage ensued, which resulted in the complete rout of the invaders and the capture of their football.

With which tremendous prize the victorious army returned to quarters and continued their discussion on moral reform.

"Yes, as I was saying, we shall have to stick to it a bit. But young Stratton'll make it worth our while, I fancy."

This hidden allusion to the tea and cake completed the speaker's argument, and the party forthwith sat down with one ink-pot among them for preparation.

As it happened, the preparation for the day was an English Essay on "Your favourite Animal," with special attention to the spelling and the stops.

It was always a sore point with the Cla.s.sic juniors to be set an English lesson. They could understand being taught Latin, but they considered they ought to be exempt from writing and spelling their own language.

It wasn't Cla.s.sics, and they didn't like it, and they oughtn't to be let in for it. However, it was no use growling; and as the subject (apart from the spelling and points) was a congenial one, it seemed a fair opening for the commencement of their reformed career.

"Look here," said Wally, "don't let's all have the same beast. I'm going to have a dog."

"Oh, I wanted a dog," said Fisher minor.

"Can't; he's bagged. Have a cat?"

"No, I don't like cats--can't I write about a dog too?"

"That would be rot. Haven't you got the whole of Noah's Ark to pick from--lions, tigers, ants, hippopotamuses, cobra de capellos?"

"How much?" asked D'Arcy. "Are they good to eat?"

"Uncommon good. Will you take cobra de capellos?"

"Ah right," said D'Arcy; "I don't mind."

"I shall take pigs," said Ashby.

"There you are," said Wally; "there's lots left. You have cows, kid--"